


Remembrance Therapy (11.09.19)

by Angel_made_of_scars



Category: Markiplier Egos, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: But with feeling, M/M, Wilford goes to therapy and watches videos to keep him stable, and then skips and gets stabby, “Lemme see what you have” “A knife!”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: William J. Barnum sometimes forgets who he is. Or rather who he used to be. And as The Host casually references who exactly who he used to be, he goes for the stomach, with a knife rather than his gun, as he’s disarmed. Even with the strength of every Google holding him back, he would have easily destroyed their family, and himself, had Dark not shown up.(Written November 9th, 2019)
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel
Kudos: 29





	Remembrance Therapy (11.09.19)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2019 and then cringed at it until I didn’t publish it, oops. But my phone seems to be breaking so I’m preparation I’m publishing everything I have stored up!
> 
> Hope you like it! :>

“I am not a murdered! I never killed them! They never killed me! I am not the one who’s forgotten who I am, Author. I never-”

“Wilford killed many, before he went insane, and he would do so once more to his family-”

“Shut your rancid mouth, you worm eating-” Wilford snarled, trying desperately to take another swing at The Host, who almost instantly collapsed into sitting on the floor, blood slowly trickling from his stomach and through his torn clothes.

“He will stab the ones he loves in a fit of delusion-”

“Stop this!” Google shouted, all at once every one of them repeating, as the four grappled with his arms, waist, and legs, trying not to get stabbed themselves. 

“It begins, the lover will bleed.” 

“You filthy, eyeless body, I will end your false words-”

“Enough!” Dark yelled, entering the room. The others had been finally filed away to their rooms for safety, and the Doctor was prepping a table.

“Googles, let him go. Get The Host to Dr. Ipliers office. Now. He is restrained.” Dark growled, his aura glowing, straining and reaching out to hold Wilford, his body convulsing and twitching against the power. They made quick work of scooping him up, before Darkiplier stepped forward to stand in front of him.

“What is your name?” Dark asked.

“My name is Wi- Will.” He stammered.

“What is my name?” Dark asked, his hair blowing in the wind his pure aura was dusting around them.

“Damien of course. You’re not dead, I never killed anyone. He’s a filthy liar, how he could slander-”

“You’re wrong.” Dark interrupted.

“What?”

“I am not Damien. And you are not Will any longer. Not in the way you believe.”

“I am William J. Barnum! And you are... of course, how could I forget? You’re Celine. Dear Celine.”

“Focus your eyes. Move the aura together. Piece by piece, tell me who you are.” Dark said sternly, keeping his voice low. Pink swirled between them, a color Wilford had come to know and blend with for whatever reason, as his face screwed with tears.

“No! Stop showing me- Stop! I’m not- please! Dark, please! Stop showing me their bodies! Get out of my head!” Wilford begged, clutching his hair and straining to shut his eyes.

“Tell me who you are.” Dark said again. He lessened his auras grip, and Wilford sobbed. 

“They’re in my head. Their voices, it’s not- it wasn’t me. I didn’t mean to! Stop! Stop screaming! Let me go!” Wilford screamed, suddenly pointing the knife towards himself. Dark jumped to grab his wrist, holding him back without thinking. So close together, the aura became stronger than before.

“Give them back!” Wilford yelled, suddenly turning, slicing across Darks chest and stomach in a long, precise cut.

He saw the blood and dropped the knife, completely collapsing on the floor as Dark barely grunted and shut his eyes. His aura shrank to barely a hum, and Wilford shook so heavily he tremored, his hands not able to cover his eyes without hitting himself lightly. Dark sank to the floor, sitting on his knees to gently pull him into his bleeding chest. He sank against him and into the shock he had triggered.

“What is your name?”

“Wilford Warfstache. I chose it. I killed them. And I... forgot.”

“It’s in the past. This episode got a little out of hand didn’t it?” Dark gritted out.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t... I forgot. I didn’t mean to... I didn’t-”

“Easy thoughts. Remember me, remember us. Remember this manor, and the people inside.”

“You smell like rain and copper, my void.” Wilford mumbled. 

“I’m going to take you to the Doctor now, and you’re going to watch his video. To remind you of who you are. So this doesn’t happen again. You’ve been skipping the therapy videos haven’t you?” Darkiplier asked. Wilford nodded slowly.

Dark sighed as he stood, lifting the other man, who curled into his chest. As he walked through the halls, he shushed the others, who were watching. He made it to the standard infirmary, and placed Wilford on the soft table, before sitting down and taking his hand.

“My darling, my- darkling. Please forgive me.”

“You are forgiven.” Dark said calmly, as Dr. Iplier rushed in behind them. He took one look at Darks chest and sighed.

“Can you bare that wound? I’ve got The Host open and I need to stitch him up, but he will be fine.”

“Of course, it helps to be a demon in this case.” Dark murdered, as Dr. Iplier rushed back out. Wilford stuck out his other hand and Dark took both.

“This shouldn’t have happened. You should have done your remembrance therapy.” Dark said.

“It’s... a lot of death I don’t wish to remember.”

“I know. But to keep you with us, with me, you have to remember. And we will work through it together. I can be in the room if you’d like.” Dark offered.

“I’d like that Darkling.” Wilford nodded, finally smiling. Dark sighed and shut his eyes, feeling Wilfords own small aura, and reaching out to comfort it. Wilford hummed and shut his eyes.

There were always bad days, bad episodes. But Dark would not abandon a being as flawed as he himself, any time soon.


End file.
